


Fully Caffienated

by morrezela



Series: Coffee Daddy [2]
Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Alternate Universe - Sugar Daddy, Daddy Kink, M/M, Sugar Daddy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-12
Updated: 2019-01-24
Packaged: 2019-03-30 08:12:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,172
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13947420
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/morrezela/pseuds/morrezela
Summary: Cor had been lusting after his favorite barista for a while now. It was only good manners to give Ignis a place to stay when he was kicked out by his uncle.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Partly written for ffxvtwinksanddaddies 2018. This was based on the Day 2 prompt of "Daddy finds a stray" as well as the Day 2 prompt "Sugar Daddy." I just happened to not be able to finish in time, so I guess this is going to be my first WIP in ages. 
> 
> All mistakes you find are my own.

Ignis watched as a young, beautiful brunette sashayed away from table twenty-two and walked to the counter. Without saying a word, he took a donut out of the pastry case and put it on a plate for him. “I told you he doesn’t like brats,” he whispered as the brunette reached the counter.

Tristis groaned and picked at the treat. “He’s going to end up alone if he keeps being so damn picky.”

“He is already alone,” Ignis pointed out. “And you are also alone, but are the opposite of picky.”

Tristis shrugged. “Which is why I thought we could help each other out, but he didn’t seem to think so.”

Ignis made a sympathetic noise in his throat. The man sitting in the shadowed corner of the shop wasn’t exactly a regular. He didn’t frequent the shop at all when he had a… partner to be with. He was well connected, in good shape, rather handsome, and most of all kind. More importantly, he was a good tipper when he did show up.

As much as Ignis felt bad for Tristis and his current daddy-less state, he was also grateful that the man hadn’t taken Tristis up on his offer. Ignis’s hours had been cut back during the winter break. Lots of students were picking up extra shifts, and student loans only stretched so far. His uncle was making a lot of noise about needing more rent, and Ignis was already behind from last month. 

The man in the corner tipped well. Although all employees were sworn to a very strict code of silence, he always tipped more as if trying to buy a second layer of anonymity. Ignis didn’t quite understand it. A lot of men and women from the citadel came into the shop to pick up a new lover. When having to pay for membership to an exclusive coffee shop, one tended to be well connected. 

Then again, the right secrets were almost as good a legal tender as the cash lining Ignis’s tip jar. With what he knew, Ignis could probably blackmail quite a few powerful people. For a while anyway. People like corner guy didn’t work so close to the royal family without being incredibly gifted and shrewd. 

If Ignis ever tried to blackmail anyone, he’d be lucky to even get hired as a barista ever again let alone pursue his actual career goals. So, obviously, trading secrets for money was out. That was okay. He had other angles he could work. 

He tugged on the waistband of his pants until they were hanging lightly around his hips. Then he rucked up his shirt until it was just meeting the top of his pants. It would, hopefully, allow for the tiniest sliver of skin to be shown as he moved. As a server, he was forbidden from actually sleeping with the patrons of the shop. But he had been hired on because he fit a certain aesthetic for the people who came in, and he wasn’t above using his looks to encourage more generous tips. 

The customer in the corner was particularly appreciative of said looks. Though he was always discreet about it, those blue eyes liked to take in the sights. Ignis had even noticed him doing it when he was on dates with other people. Those lovers never lasted long. Whether it was because he was caught looking or because he was looking because he was already bored, Ignis didn’t know. 

What he did know was that his favorite customer was on a bit of a slump when it came to finding new lovers. His visits to the café had been increasing in frequency, and the line over his forehead was wrinkling more often. Although there were plenty of news articles that described him as, “a tireless defender and stalwart champion of the royal family,” he looked worn down. 

“Can I help you with anything?” Ignis asked as he approached the table. 

Sharp, blue eyes looked pointedly down at his half-full cappuccino and then back up at Ignis.

“That was not the kind of assistance I was offering,” Ignis explained. “It is unlike you to go so long without company.” 

A huff of breath left the man’s lips. His mouth curled into a smile that was humorless. “I thought you weren’t allowed to associate with customers.”

“And I am not offering,” Ignis clarified. “However, it is not against the rules to offer members in good standing some help.”

“Members,” the man echoed. 

Ignis shifted his weight, cocking his hip ever so slightly. The motion caught his customer’s attention. Though his gaze only shifted for a moment before returning to Ignis’s face. “I think we have been acquainted long enough for you to know that I am more than aware of certain… necessities when it comes to my place of employment.” Necessities like the customers who paid for membership in a coffee shop. People who purchased secrecy like some purchased jewelry. People whose proclivities were open secrets, but secrets nonetheless. 

“I told Mercator that you were too smart to be working here,” the man said. That he was on first name terms with the owner of the shop was not surprising. Many of the regular patrons were. 

“Well, if you think so highly of my intellect, you should listen to my proposal,” Ignis countered.

“Very well,” the customer begrudgingly agreed. He leaned back in his chair. The dark black tee and suit jacket he was wearing did nothing to hide his physique. Which was a shame, because Ignis could hardly fathom any other reason for wearing such a hideous ensemble. 

“From time to time, our shop runs low on certain supplies due to either scarcity or demand. On such occasions, I have been known to keep an eye out for certain customers. Provide, let us say, priority access when stock is refilled.” 

“And what would you ask for such a favor? A good word at the Citadel?” the man asked, his eyes hard and bitter. 

Ignis had heard rumors of course. Rumors about what had happened to some of the lovers that had once seemed fused to his side. He was an easy political target for social climbers. Ignis had seen him with more than a few people who were now dangling off the arms of men and women with titles, pedigrees and massive fortunes. There were also a few that held their own positions of power. 

Even though Ignis had an idea of the reason behind that bitterness, he found himself insulted by the insinuation. “While I have no doubt that your word carries an immense amount of weight in certain circles, I am uninterested in bartering for position.”

“Believer in the value of hard work?” The words were mocking, but the stiff line of the man’s shoulders began to relax. 

 

“I do not believe in asking somebody to vouch for that which they do not believe in,” Ignis said. 

The man snorted. “You know, you sound like a politician. But in my experience politicians don’t turn down opportunities to get themselves in a position of power. So what do you want for your services?”

“Members who avail themselves of my services typically provide tips,” Ignis informed him. 

“Tips. You mean cash? You could do better than that.”

“I do not wish to do better,” Ignis said. “I do not intend to be in this place for forever. Making demands that abuse a person’s personal relationships will only make certain I am forever tied to it.” 

“Fine. So you’re offering your services on a purely financial bias. What makes you think that you can do better? Last I checked, I’m the foremost expert on what I want.” 

“You are not here nearly as often as I am,” Ignis pointed out. “Your job keeps you away for long periods of time. As for your tastes, I feel I have a good grasp on what you are seeking. Tall and slender builds, though not taller than yourself. Blond to light brown hair, although you are not immune to a good redhead. Intelligent. Educated. Am I on the right track?”

“You tell me,” the man countered. 

Ah. Not one to make things easy. Ignis should have expected that. “You hate brats and are uninterested in those who act up. You prefer, as they say, ‘good boys.’ And, of course, you are practically allergic to the charms of anyone who remotely resembles his royal highness.” 

There was a slight twitch to the man’s eyebrow at the last sentence. If he was less familiar with this particular customer, Ignis might be worried that he had crossed over a line. But Ignis had made a point to study him whenever he came into the shop. This waiting and studious face was a favorite gambit of his, a way to bait others into rambling. 

While Ignis had been deemed unworthy of being the prince’s advisor, he still had a talent for politics. He wasn’t about to show his hand to the leader of the Crownsguard. 

After a few moments of silence, Ignis assumed he was judged worthy from the, “You know, I don’t know how you propose to find somebody for me when you can’t even say my name,” that was oh so casually tossed at him. 

“You know that we are not allowed to be familiar with our patrons.” Ignis inclined his is apologetically. 

“Maybe I’d feel better if you said it. Maybe I want assurance that you see me.” 

The urge to widen his eyes in surprise was an easy one to suppress. For years, his uncle had been baiting him, waiting for any excuse to tell Ignis what a drain he was. In the years since Ignis had been rejected for royal service, he had heard all manner of shocking information. He was supposed to have been the Scientia family’s crowning glory. Not just a retainer as so many of his family were, but first advisor to the future king. 

His five-year-old self’s failures had not been well received. But thinking about his personal plights was not going to be helpful in his current conversation. So he pushed them out of his mind to focus on the task at hand. 

“I was not aware that a man such as yourself would seek assurance. Even if you did, I do not think that a menial employee such as myself would be in any position to give it to you.” 

For a second, the steady gaze of his favorite customer darkened with some unknown emotion. It was there for the tiniest amount of time before it was replaced with a smooth, but less genuine twinkle. “You’re wrong. I would very much like you to give it to me.” 

The tone was flirtatious, daring. Ignis’s first instinct was to flush. His imagination had always been active, and it was more than willing to conjure up images of just what “it” was. 

“I’ve made you speechless.” The words were said with a low, pleased voice. 

“You are toying with me,” Ignis snapped out without thinking.

“No. I don’t toy. I work with politicians, but I’m not one. I don’t ask for something I don’t want.” The words held a hint of sadness to them alongside their honesty. 

Part of Ignis wanted to give in. That part was larger than he wanted it to be. He glanced around the café only to see that it was just as empty as it had been earlier. Nobody was even near them. Words seemed to push against his teeth. A sort of jittery excitement tugged along his spine. 

“Marshal, I don’t think…”

“That’s not my name, is it? For a man trying to do business with me, you should be a bit more familiar than that.” The look in his eyes had gone dark again.

Ignis took a breath and tried to calm down. He’d lost track of their conversation somewhere along the way. He wasn’t even sure what they were talking about anymore, or why his heart was pounding. 

No. That was a lie. He knew exactly why his heart was racing even if he didn’t know what purpose Cor Leonis had in making it do so. 

“Cor,” the name left Ignis’s lips in a softer manner than he intended.

“Ignis,” Cor replied. “I…” The sound of a phone ringing interrupted whatever it was he was going to say. Something like an apologetic look crossed over his face as he pulled out the black phone that all the members of the Crownsguard seemed to carry. 

Not wanting to look like he was mining for information, Ignis drifted away from the table and tried to focus on his actual work. A minute or two later, Cor Leonis left the shop with his phone still glued to his ear. Ignis tried not to think about why he felt disappointed. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A week passed, and then two. Cor didn’t come back to the café, and that was fine. Ignis hadn’t exactly found any good boys for him to dote upon. But he did miss the tips. If he missed anything else, that was just his body overreacting. Between school and work, Ignis didn’t have the time to be finding a new boyfriend. 

The marshal was a very attractive man, he reasoned. It was natural to look. And it was natural to be flattered by somebody like that expressing an interest no matter how superficial. After all, Cor had always looked. And he’d always liked to have odd conversations when Ignis had the time. His behavior was nothing new, and Ignis was thinking about it far too much. 

As Ignis closed up the shop and forced himself out into the cold night air, he wished any thoughts about Cor away from his mind. Even thinking about him was a terrible idea. Ignis had strong evidence that he belonged nowhere near the royal family. And Cor was directly responsible for their safety. 

Stomping through the snowflakes covering the ground allowed him to think about how cold it was out. It was a good change of pace for his brain. If he was actually warm, he might think about the way the thick snow was falling out of the sky, turned a blinding white by the street lamps. 

As it was, all he did was try to hurry his steps without slipping and falling. He couldn’t wait to get back to his warm bedroom even if it was tiny and cramped. His uncle was on duty at the Citadel, so he could enjoy his nights without listening to him complain about how Ignis had let down the whole family and tarnished his reputation. 

That was his plan at least. Reality was different. When Ignis got to his apartment, the locks had been changed. He rattled the doorknob a few times, but it was a futile effort. So was calling his uncle. 

The silence spoke volumes. Ignis was young but not stupid. With appropriate pressure, he could probably retrieve his possessions. Assuming, of course, that his uncle hadn’t thrown them out or sold them off. 

But Ignis couldn’t stop to think about that now. There were more important matters. He needed somewhere to sleep for the night, and he doubted that he could pull off sleeping in the hallways. His uncle’s connections were vast, and he didn’t relish the thought of being tossed out onto the streets in the middle of the night by the building manager. 

He had a few friends from university, but they were all on break. He wasn’t particularly close to his coworkers, and sleeping at the café would surely lead to his dismissal. Ignis didn’t have the money for a hotel room either. His last paycheck had gone into his uncle’s pockets for rent. That fucking bastard took his money before kicking him out. 

If that was the kind of person King Regis wanted in his service, Ignis was glad he’d failed his childhood interview. 

“Fuck,” he swore as he forced himself to make his way back out onto the street. Anger and hurt swirled inside of him. Perhaps he’d been a terrible person in his past life. That would explain why he could work so hard but always be kept away from true achievement. It would also explain why his dick was interested in somebody he really shouldn’t be interested in.

The thought of Cor brought a pleasant tingle to Ignis’s skin that couldn’t quite chase away the cold. At least somebody liked him even if it was only for the way his ass looked in his work uniform. It was a handsome someone at that.

He shouldn’t be thinking about the marshal, but he found that he couldn’t help himself. Besides, he was stuck out in the snow, and the sidewalks were becoming a slushy, cold mixture that seeped into his shoes. He might as well think of something pleasant.


	2. Iced or Hot?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Man. It took me FOREVER to finish up this little segment. Smut coming soon! (Hopefully)

Cor groaned as he waited for the traffic light to change. He was no stranger to long working hours, but he missed his bed. Managing the security schedule of both king and prince was usually not so hectic a job. Regis didn’t leave the Citadel much anymore, and Noctis’s rebellious streak didn’t extend to his safety. His advisor had been certain to curb any wandering impulses he had even if Noctis didn’t much like the guy. 

But there had been a security breech in the western sector. Cor had almost forgotten what being constantly on alert felt like. Drautos had been lording it over him too. Not that Cor paid any attention to him. Drautos went out into the field about as often as Cor did. He had no room to judge. 

The world churned white around him as he drove. It seemed to mirror his emotions. Normally, he wouldn’t be affected by Drautos’s needling, but he was distracted. There were many things he could be doing, and one particular person he would like to be doing. Drautos wasn’t on either list. 

As if summoned by Cor’s thoughts, a familiar figure seemed to appear out of thin air. Even through the white haze of snowflakes hanging in the air, Cor recognized that body. It was easy because Ignis wasn’t wearing anything near appropriate for the weather. The thin jacket he was wearing was clinging to his body, outlining it in ways that Cor appreciated under other circumstances. Now it just made him sad. 

Ignis was hunched over and curled in on himself, clearly not out enjoying the weather. Even as Cor watched him, he slipped and skidded on the sidewalk from snow that wouldn’t be shoveled until the morning. 

Without really thinking about it, Cor pulled his car over and rolled down the passenger side window. “Ignis!” he called out. 

Surprise was etched on Ignis’s face as he twisted around. There might have been another emotion following it before his face turned into a polite mask, but the falling snow obscured it. Still, he walked over to the car instead of turning back around or giving a polite wave, so Cor figured he couldn’t be too upset with the possibility of interacting with him when there was no official barista outfit between them. 

“What are you doing out here?” Cor asked, careful to pitch his voice into a neutral tone. 

“I, uh…” Ignis was already flushed from the cold wind, but Cor figured some of the red in his face had to be from embarrassment. 

“Why don’t I give you a ride to where you’re going?” Cor offered. “You’re already half-frozen.” 

Ignis paused as if considering his offer, but he shuffled towards the passenger side door a second later. The way he fumbled with the handle on the door spoke volumes about how cold his fingers must be. Getting in the car at all also spoke to that. 

Cor turned up the heat as Ignis settled in and fastened his seatbelt. “Where are you headed?” he asked. 

“The shelter over on thirty-eighth street,” Ignis stated. He sounded more defeated than embarrassed. 

“You sure about that? If you’ve got family you could crash with, I could lend you my phone,” Cor suggested. 

The laugh that came out of Ignis was bitter. “Forgive me, but family trouble is what landed me in this predicament in the first place.”

That was surprising to hear. Cor didn’t have much cause to interact with the Scientias, but he knew they were a respected family. And Ignis far from rowdy or wild. Part of him wanted to ask follow-up questions, but he was old enough to know better than that. 

“Well, as you know, I do have a spare room open at my place,” he offered. “You’re welcome to crash there. Won’t need to worry about your computer getting lifted by strangers at least.” 

“I’d prefer not to lose my job,” Ignis replied. 

“And who’s going to tell them you stayed?” Cor countered. “You’re not stupid enough to do it, and I wouldn’t have my job if I made a habit of spilling other people’s personal information around.”

Out of the corner of his eye, Cor could see Ignis bite his lip. It wasn’t a usual affectation of his, but Cor couldn’t mention that without being creepy. So he kept his mouth shut/ 

“What sort of payment would you be expecting in return for a room?” Ignis asked.

“Nothing,” Core tried not to sound offended. “I don’t do cheap exchanges. You’re smart enough to know that. I just don’t want my favorite barista to have to suffer for the night. I’ve got a room that’s not being used.”

“You say that, but people lie. Not to sound rude, but I know where your eyes are when you’re at the shop,” Ignis informed him. 

“Looking is strictly encouraged at places where you go to hook-up. But I never meant to make you uncomfortable, so if you’re bothered by it, I can stop.” The words hurt to say, but Cor meant them. He might be a guy with issues, but he wasn’t an asshole. He wasn’t going to force himself on anyone. 

“I’m not bothered by it,” Ignis assured him. “I’d be a bit of a hypocrite if so. I’ve been abusing that fact for extra tips off you.”

“I know,” Cor admitted. “You’re more devious than you look. But I did catch on after a while. Still, I don’t think that means you don’t get a say. I know fast shit like that can go downhill. Being okay with tips at work is different from staying somewhere for the night.”

“True,” Ignis agreed. “Perhaps I’m just overthinking this. All of your previous roommates have said that you’re quite the gentleman. I don’t have much cause to believe you to be elsewise to me.”

“My previous roommates, huh?” Cor chuckled. “I think they’re being kind. I’m no gentleman, but I like to think I’m not a total asshole.” He slowed the car down and pulled over. “Here’s your stop.”

Ignis glanced out the window at the shelter. “So it is.”

“Look, you have a phone with your anything? It’s not going to be any nicer out here tomorrow than it is today. You should probably call for a cab or a ride or something.”

Ignis turned his gaze from the street to his face. “If I had money for a cab, I wouldn’t have been walking in the first place. But it is kind of you to worry. I’ll be fine.”

Cor expected him to just leave after those words, but Ignis stayed. What he was waiting for, Cor didn’t know. But he hadn’t gotten to his position in life by waiting on his ass either. “The offer is still open, you know. And my place is a lot closer to your work. So it wouldn’t be as far to walk.”

“I would be abusing your generosity,” Ignis pointed out. 

“No, you wouldn’t,” Cor assured him. “I’m not asking for you to do anything. And my spare bedroom is doing nothing but eating up my heating bill for no reason. I don’t like the thought of you harming yourself.”

“Because you fancy me,” Ignis said. 

“A little, yeah,” Cor admitted. “But more because I don’t think you’re going to treat yourself well the next few days. And I don’t want that on my conscience when I can help.”

“Ah. Yes, of course,” Ignis said. “How foolish of me to forget.”

Cor was a little lost. “Forget what?”

“That they call you Cor the Generous for a reason,” Ignis replied. 

“The Immortal,” Cor corrected, “and I really hate that name.”

“Rest assured I did not misspeak, and I shan’t refer to you as an immortal being. If it will keep your conscience clean, I suppose it wouldn’t hurt to take you up on your offer,” Ignis said. “I wouldn’t mind the shorter walk in the morning.”

“I’m glad I brought it up then,” Cor said as he put his car back into drive and pulled onto the street. 

“I suppose I am too,” Ignis agreed.


End file.
